The Hobbit, the Sith, and the Wardrobe
by Furaha
Summary: When a glitch in time throws Gandalf and Pippin into the future, and then into Narnia, along with Emperor Palpatine, insanity is sure to follow...Crazy randomness, but with a plot!
1. A Glitch In Time

-Disclaimer-

Furaha does not own any of this, besides the plot. OOCness may occur, but she has tried to keep the characters as true to themselves as possible without losing the randomness. She doesn't intend on making any profit from this compilation of insanity. Furaha is not responsible for choking, uncontrollable fits of laughter, milk squirting out your nose, or hyperactive jawas raiding your house by the cover of night.

You do not need to see my identification

Carry on.

---

Peregrin Took opened his eyes.

The hobbit blinked as the stars rushed above him. He was on the back of Gandalf's horse Shadowfax, and they were galloping swiftly. The young halfling yawned. Gandalf the White was in front of him, staff in one hand, a moonlike glow lighting the ground dimly as the white equine galloped tiredlessly over the terrain.

Pippin had been through so much lately. It started what seemed like a long time ago, when his friend Frodo had discovered that he had the Ruling Ring. They went out on a quest to destroy it. Pippin really had no idea what was going on half the time; he only knew that it was the adventure of his lifetime. Gandalf, who at first seemed to the Shire a lively old wizard, turned out to be more then anyone expected--he was a Jedi. Pippin, of course, had no idea before what a Jedi was, or what the Force was, or anything like that. He was only concerned with the Shire, his own life, his own friends, his own kitchen; just like any other hobbit, he had been ignorant to the outside world. That was before Gandalf discovered that the ring Frodo had was, in fact, Sauron's ring.

Pippin would have never guessed he was Force-sensitive, even if he had known such a thing existed. It was something that would have never crossed his mind. Gandalf had decided to take Pippin as his padawan learner, with the Jedi Counsel's approval. They had communicated through thinks called comlinks, and holograms, things that Pippin didn't quite fully grasp. Middle-earth wasn't exactly what you would call a technically advanced place.

Gandalf had explained much of this to Pippin at Rivendell. He had told the hobbit how their were five of his race, the Istari, sent to Arda...an expedition of sorts to find out about this outer rim planet, the inhabitants, the culture. So far, the expedition had worked. Arda revolved around it's sun, Anor, much quicker then most planets did, enabling Gandalf and the other Istari to be around for what seemed to the natives as thousands of years, while in the Galactic Republic only a few years had passed. It was some sort of time-warp, another thing Pippin didn't understand.

At any rate, the young hobbit's life had changed drastically. Middle-earth was about to break out in war. Gandalf and him were on a mission to Gondor to discuss the threat of Mordor. Normally, a Jedi wouldn't take sides in a war, but if Sauron's forces conquered Middle-earth, the entire galaxy would be at risk. The Republic was troubled enough already by the Order of the Sith Lords. Pippin didn't comprehend half the stuff Gandalf had told him. It was all far away places, strange words, and distant conflicts--the hobbit hadn't guessed at what could happen outside his own safe home in the Shire. Perhaps Gandalf would feel like talking tonight. Pippin needed some clarification.

"Gandalf--Master Gandalf?" Pippin still wasn't used to referring to Gandalf as "master", but it was what all padawans called their teacher. The ways of the Jedi were still pretty new to the young hobbit, but he was trying his best to understand their customs.

"Hmm? What is it, Peregrin?" Came Gandalf;s reply. He didn't sound as tired as one would expect from riding all night.

"I'm hungry." No, that wasn't at all what Pippin was thinking of at first. It just came out naturally when he had opened his mouth.

Gandalf sighed. "Is that all you hobbits ever think about?" Gandalf's voice sounded annoyed, but Pippin could make out a hint of humor.

"Were all the Istari Jedis?" Pippin asked, this time managing to keep his mind off his stomach.

"Jedi. It's plural as well as singular. Yes, we all were...Radagast, Alatar, Pallando..." Gandalf's voice trailed off, leaving the rhythmic pounding of Shadowfax's hooves to break the silence.

"And Saruman?" Pippin ventured. Saruman was another "wizard", but he wanted the One Ring for himself. Pippin and his friend Merry had been captured by his Orcs--his Uruk-Hai, and brought to his tower of Isengard. Luckily, Merry and Pippin had managed to escape the vile beasts.

"Yes, Saruman was a Jedi, also. Before he turned, that is. I don't see how I could have not noticed...I do believe he had started to turn before this, before the Ring."

"Turn?"

"Turn to the dark side. I would expect you, of all hobbits, to have realized that--why else would he want the Ring for himself? No, he can't be counted as a Jedi anymore. I wouldn't be surprised if he had found a Sith holocron...Saruman was always a little ambitious...and too hungry for knowledge and power..." Gandalf paused. "He was good, though. I was Saruman's padawan, you know. Before we were sent here."

"Oh." Pippin's reply was very blunt, but his mind still reeled with unanswered questions. _'What_ _exactly are the Sith?'_ He thought.

"They use the dark side of the Force. They care about power, and nothing else," Gandalf answered.

"Of course--I'm not used to people reading my mind," Pippin answered light-heartedly.

Gandalf laughed. "You shouldn't let your thoughts be so vulnerable. You never know who you'll run into."

Pippin smiled. "I'll remember that, Master." The hobbit paused. "I'm still hungry."

Gandalf laughed again, and Shadowfax snorted in agreement. The noise echoed in the silent nighttime air.

to reach Gondor. The hobbit had lost his sense of time from sleeping on and off so much, bPippin smiled, and closed his eyes again. _Three days as the Nazgul flies, and we should hope we don't have on of those on our tails._ That's how long Gandalf said it would take--he estimated that it had roughly been one day, give or take a few hours, since they had set off from Rohan.

Shadowfax's sudden shrill whinny caused Pippin's eyes to fly open. The stallion had tripped on something, and now they were falling, falling to the ground. Pippin opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Everything blacked out.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in a completely different place. Scrambling to his feet, the hobbit's eyes opened wide, trying to take in his surroundings. It seemed they were in some sort of long, narrow corrider. Gandalf was beside him, but Shadowfax was nowhere to be found.

"Where are we?" Pippin's voice was a barely audible whisper. All his senses were tingling, and Gandalf's reply didn't help matters one bit.

"I honestly have no idea."

---

A/N---Yup, that would be the rather short and boring intro...it gets better, I promise. I started this a while ago, so I have a few more chapters to upload tonight...I hope at least _someone_ is reading...

I don't attempt to understand the time-warp. I'm just a 15-year-old on a sugar rush. -Cough- Reviews make me happy...even negative ones...let me know what you think!


	2. A Really Big Wardrobe

-Disclaimer-

-Waves hand- You will go read the disclaimer on the first chapter. You do not want to sue me. You want to give me a cookie...please?

---

Pippin's stomach growled. The hallway they were in was narrow, and it seemed to be made of some sort of metallic substance. The walls were rounded, and either way the hobbit looked, the hallway curved to the side. Strong metallic doors were here and there on either side. He felt like he was floating in space rather then on a building built soundly on the ground. He glanced at Gandalf, who seemed just as out of place in the strange corridor. All of Pippin's senses were tingling, and not in a good way. His pulse was going much faster then what was normal than what was normal for an easy-going, laid-back hobbit.

"Gandalf? I have a bad feeling about this. And this time it's not my stomach…" The hobbit walked over to one of the large iron doors which loomed above the short hobbit. The inscription read "Detention Cell 11-38." Pippin blinked. _Detention Cell?_ "Um, hullo?" The hobbit called. "Anyone home?"

"Pippin, don't-" Gandalf tried to stop the hobbit but was cut short by an almost mechanical voice.

"Hey! Hey, you!" Gandalf turned his head to see two men in pristine white uniforms, aiming at Gandalf and Pippin with blaster rifles.

"Fool of a Took…" The Istar muttered.

Pippin smiled at the two stormtroopers. "Where are we?" He asked, disregarding his anxiety.  
The men in uniform fired at the two Jedi.

---

Emperor Palpatine sensed the sudden disturbance in the Force. Outside, the small forest moon of Endor was visible as the Second Death Star hovered above. Palpatine had been expecting his apprentice, Darth Vader, to bring that Rebel Luke Skywalker –but not this soon. For a fleeting instant, he thought that this new presence could be them, but the Force told him otherwise. Whoever it was, they were strong with the Force, and they weren't familiar to the Sith lord. How could they possibly manage to get on his battle station without being noticed?

The Emperor pressed the comlink next to his throne.

"What do you wish, my lord?" Came the monotone reply of an Imperial Officer.

"Send some Stormtroopers to Corridor 11. They need to investigate something," Palpatine replied, his tone ominous as usual.

"Yes, sir."

---

Gandalf lifted his staff into a protective stance, a white glow emitting from the crystal on top. The blaster bolt reflected off the staff and rickocheted back to the firing stormtrooper, knocking him back. With a lift of his hand, Gandalf sent the other trooper flying backwards using the Force.

"Well, they aren't very friendly, are they?" Pippin gasped.

"No questions now, just move!" Gandalf ordered, running away from the stormtroopers. Pippin followed without hesitation.

The hallway turned a sharp corner, and the wizard and the hobbit fled down it quickly. Pippin's stomach was growling furiously now, and his senses were suddenly sharpened as he rushed down the corridor after Gandalf. Apparently, this place they had transported to had low tolerance for unexpected visitors.

The young hobbit skidded to a stop, their path being blocked off by more stormtroopers who fired at the invaders. Gandalf lifted his staff to block more of the blaster bolts, while Pippin cowered behind his master. He still wasn't that far into his training—he still used a training lightsaber, after all!  
Some of the Imperial officers were shot down by the bolts reflecting of Gandalf's staff, but more kept coming. It was a rather tight situation. Pippin trembled, trying to control his fear. Fear wasn't good. As Gandalf continued to block the ceaseless firing, the hobbit decided on impulse to dash past the Istar, running past the stormtroopers. This show of bravado proved to be unexpected for everyone present, and the stormtroopers seemed to have a slow reaction. They looked at each other quizzically, blatantly unsure on what to do.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf repeated again, irritated. He rushed after his padawan, knocking the two remaining white-uniformed officers off their feet with his staff as he went by.

---

Palpatine sensed another large impulse through the Force. Apparently these unwelcome guests were eluding his officers, and Vader wasn't around to take care of things. It seemed he would have to handle this situation himself…

---

Gandalf and Pippin halted in another hall, stopping to catch their breathe and survey their surroundings. The wheel's in Gandalf's head were reeling, trying to figure out just exactly what was going on. At least now they could think for a short while—the coast seemed to be clear.

"Peregrin?" He asked.

"Yes, Master Gandalf?"

"Do you sense anything?"

"Yeah…" the hobbit replied, slightly exasperated. "However advanced this place is, there aren't any good kitchens nearby!"

Gandalf groaned, his senses tingling. "I think we may have travelled into the future…if that's possible. We're still in the same galaxy, at any rate."

Pippin pondered for a moment, amazed at how his master seemed to know so much about everthing, even in events like this. "How…How did you know that?"

"You have brains, and the Force is strong with you, Peregrin! I'd suggest putting that to good use." Pippin smiled sheepishly; Gandalf was at least able to act normal, in his annoyed but good-humoured way.

"I think we did travel into the future, I guess. Where's Shadowfax? Did Frodo destroy the Ring? …Where's Merry? I do wonder what happened to them all…"

"Hmm." Gandalf looked down, obviously pondering these thoughts. What, Pippin wondered, was he percieving through the Force?

---

Gandalf was suddenly jerked out of his musings as he sensed another person heading towards him. Whoever it was, they were highly Force-sensive, and Gandalf knew that they were no Jedi Knight. Impulses of anger and rage seemed to radiate towards the Istar in waves of energy. Pippin noticed it too. The hobbit turned to look up at Gandalf in wide, questioning eyes.  
"Sithsawn," Gandalf muttered. He had no idea how correct he was.

---

The Emperor strode purposely down the corridor towards the disturbance in the Force, one word pounding in his head: _Jedi._ They were all supposed to be dead, much less on the Death Star! With Obi-Wan's death, and Luke Skywalker soon to turn to the dark side, Palpatine had thought he had seen the last of those pests. He wasn't in the mood to be proven wrong.

---

Pippin looked in the direction of the Force-sensitive coming their way. Whoever it was hadn't turned the corner yet, but they were getting much closer every second. His heart pounded in his chest. He hadn't even felt this way when he had been captured by orcs; this was a very bad feeling.

"Gandalf? Could we try that running thing some more now, please?"

"By all means, Peregrin."

The two Jedi fled down the corridor.

---

Palpatine caught a glimpse of two figures running down the hall and turning another corner: a tall one in a white robe with a staff, and a much shorter one—a youngling, perhaps? The Emperor snarled in annoyance and started running towards them. If his minions couldn't take care of them, he could. Electrum-coated lightsaber hilt in hand, the Sith lord ran after the two Jedi.

---

"Bad feeling, very bad feeling, worse then black riders, very bad feeling!" Pippin muttered to himself as he ran down the hallway. The whoever-it-was was chasing them now, and it's anger was easy to sense. Just up ahead, the young hobbit caught glimpse of an open door. Without hesitation, Gandalf rushed in and Pippin followed, his master closing the door behind them.

---

The elderly Sith master paused next to another doorway, one he didn't recognize. He hadn't gotten around to seeing the half-way constructed Death Star, so perhaps this was one of the new rooms. Still, Emperor Palpatine couldn't guess at what was inside. Then he sensed them again. The two Jedi knights were inside, trapped!

---

"Of all the riddles I've ever encountered, this is by far…" Gandalf murmered.

They were in a rather small room, that looked mostly unused except for a wardrobe on the far side. It was covered in a white cloth, and the entire room itself seemed coated in a thick layer of dust. It seemed extremely out-of-place compared to the hostile, mechanical mess of hallways they had been in before.

Pippin's stomach lurched. "Master Gandalf, I think Mister Angry Person is outside."

Gandalf turned to face the door, bringing his staff up to a defensive position, but Pippin had a different idea. Acting on impulse without thinking, the hobbit dashed to the wardrobe and yanked down the cloth. The beautiful oak surface was etched with strange pieces of art, something a hobbit would usually take time to consider, but the adrenaline was pumping to fast in Pippin's veins. The hobbit pulled open the door, clambered inside, and motioned for Gandalf to follow.  
The Istar raised one of his bushy eyebrows, annoyed not for the first time by his padawan's impulsiveness. With another glance at the door, he suddenly felt that the young halfling was onto something. In an instant, Gandalf the White was climbing into the wardrobe and closing the door behind, without knowing why exactly he did so.

The sound of a door opening outside reached the Jedi's ears.

"This is stupid…hiding like this…it won't do us any good…more foolish then going to Moria...if that's possibly..." an annoyed Gandalf whispered.

Pippin didn't listen. He was walking on past the wardrobe. It seemed much larger inside then what was plausible. The sounds of a forest suddenly reached the hobbit's ears. Eyes wide, Pippin stumbled and was suddenly in a completely different setting. Gandalf came right behind him, curiousity getting the better of him.

A light forest scene in the peak of summer met their eyes. Squirrels chattered in the trees, and birds dotted to and fro. The sound of a rushing stream could be heard somewhere in the distance, and the whole place smelled fresh pine needles and peaceful nature. Pippin glanced over his shoulder. The wardrobe was still there, looking extremely odd in the new surroundings.

"Again!" The hobbit exclaimed. "It happened again...We stumbled and were transported again. Gandalf? What's going on?"

"Let's just get away from that wardrobe, shall we?" Gandalf started walking into the woods. Pippin ran after him. His senses were still tingling, but this time it was more of wonder then fear. His anxiety seemed to melt away as he trudged through the sunny woodlands.

---

Emperor Palpatine looked quizzicly around the room. '_What the bloody jawa is a _wardrobe_ doing here? Nevermind; the cowards must be hiding inside.'_ Chuckling menacingly, the Sith strode toward the wardrobe. He opened the door, expecting to see his quarry inside, but this time he really was puzzled.

The wardrobe was empty.

---

A/N--Yes. Randomness will rule us all. No, seriously, I have a good plot for this...just keep reading, just keep reading, just keep reading reading reading...


	3. Of Fauns and Mountain Dew

-Disclaimer-

I don't own anything. It's all copyrighted to the people who _do_ own the things of which I speak of, thus I am only borrowing the things of which I speak of that I do not own because someone else owns them...and...uh...yeah.

---

The feeling of soft, plush grass underneath his feet was much more enjoyable than what he had been treading on minutes before. Pippin looked up and around, his eyes widened in awe as he took in the surroundings. They were in some forest, with tall, ancient trees. Everything seemed to be alive; there wasn't a tint of darkness to be sensed anywhere.

"Master Gandalf, where are we?" The young hobbit asked, running to catch up with the tall wizard who was a few strides in front of him. Gandalf was looking around the forest with interest, but he managed to keep a much calmer disposition than his padawan.

"I really don't know, Peregrin, but if you could cease your endless chatter…hmm."

"That's the second time today—if you can really call it that—this has happened, Master."

"I'm aware of that, padawan." The Jedi Master paused for a second as he stopped to examine a rowan tree. "This must be the will of the Force."

"Well, when Elrond sent me out on that quest with Frodo, I didn't really expect…all of this…this wasn't in the contract!"

"Peregrin Took, must I remind you again that you volunteered to go with the Fellowship, and…what contract?"

"Nevermind, Master."

The two continued walking through the wood for a few silent minutes. Pippin was still hungry. He couldn't remember the last time he had a meal—but then he did remember something that he had packed. _'Of course!'_ he thought to himself. _'Now why didn't I remember that earlier?'_

The hobbit reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a transluscent green-colored one-liter bottle with a colorful label. It was filled with a green liquid that was frothing with bubbles. Pippin frowned as he examined the bottle. It wasn't exactly food, but it would do. The carbonated drink had been bounced around too much, but it couldn't hurt to open it now, could it?

_Snap-hiss._ The sound made Gandalf stop in his tracks. It came from behind him—from Pippin.

"Peregrin?" The wizard asked, concerned.

"…Yes, Master?" The hobbit replied in a quiet, sheepish voice. He was covered in white bubbles, and more continued to flow out from the top of the bottle.

"Did you turn your lightsaber on?" came Gandalf's reply.

Pippin paused, unsure what to do. "…No, Master."

"Then what, padawan, was that noise?"

The hobbit bit his lip and made a mental note to never carry pop when riding horseback. "…Nothing, Master."

Gandalf turned around. His eyebrows raised almost off his face. "Is that…soda, Peregrin Took?"

Pippin cringed. "Yes, Master...I…I'm hungry…and thirsty. Do you want some, Master?"

The Istar groaned and continued walking. "No, thank you," he replied, slightly annoyed.

Pippin shrugged and brought the bottle to his lips, his thirst quenching as the sugary drink flowed down his throat. He screwed the cap on again, and ran to catch up with Gandalf again. A crooked smile spread across his face as a sudden strange sensation tingled through him. "Very good, this is, Master Gandalf, but one thing it does not. Hungry, I still am. Brought lasagna, I should have."

Gandalf stopped in his tracks again, the color draining from his cheeks. "Peregrin?" he asked again.

"A question you have, Master?"

"Is that Mountain Dew?"

"Mountain Dew it is, Master."

"May I see the bottle?"

"Want some pop now, you do! Yes, see the bottle you may!" said Pippin, presenting the bottle to his master. Gandalf snatched the bottle and read the label, his eyes searching for the fine print. What he read confirmed his suspicions.

WARNING: THE CONSUMPTION OF THIS BEVERAGE BY HOBBITS MAY RESULT IN A SERIES OF MILD SIDE EFFECTS, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO EXTREME HYPERACTIVITY, LOSS OF SANITY, AND, MOST SERIOUSLY, SPEAKING LIKE GRAND JEDI MASTER YODA.

Gandalf groaned loudly and continued to walk.

---

Palpatine blinked, dumbfounded, then decided to officially name this day the weirdest day of his life. First, the two Force-sensitives appearing out of nowhere on his battle station, then the abnormal spare room, then the two presumed Jedi climbing in the wardrobe and disappearing.

And now he was in a forest.

The most likely place for him to be was Endor—but how in Xendor's name had that happened? Anyways, this place didn't look much like Endor—it was older, wilder, and more green, if that was possible. On top of it all, the two random Force-sensitives were still gone.

Frowning, the elderly Sith Master turned and started walking—in the direction opposite of the way the two Jedi had taken.

---

"Very happy I am, oh how sunny this wood is! Like the Shire again I feel like I am in…whoa, that was a weird sentence! Very weird indeed, that sentence was! Basketball I wonder if have they here? Basketball I would gladly want to play!" Pippin skipped ahead of Gandalf, yelling to no one in particular. The fact that the wizard had dumped the rest of the soda a while ago didn't seem to phase him. _'Why in stars' name does Peregrin want to play BASKETBALL, of all games?'_

"Calm down, Peregrin. You don't know who may be around."

Pippin froze, standing precariously on one foot and giving Gandalf a quizzical expression. "People I have not seen here," he said.

"For the millionth time, Peregrin, trust your feelings, not your eyes!" The Istar exclaimed, frustrated.

"Uh…" Pippin closed his eyes and tried to meditate—still standing on one foot—but the Mountain Dew had clouded his connection with the Force. "Sense nothing I do, Master. Clouded, everything is, by dark side."

"That would a certain carbonated beverage you drank not to long ago," Gandalf said flatly.

"Strong with the dark side Mountain Dew is?!" The hobbit's eyes flew wide open at this awful discovery.

Gandalf narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Fool of a Took—why did I take you as my padawan learner again?"

"Uh…" Pippin wrinkled his face up in deep thought. "I don't know…because I'm intelligent?"

The wizard raised an eyebrow. "I truly do wonder, at times."

"Hey! It wore off!"

"What?"

"I'm not speaking like Yoda anymore, Master!" The hobbit randomly decided to jump, but he fell down instead on the ground. "Ow…"

---

Darth Sidious stood on the edge of a vast desert. How he had managed to go through the mountainous country of Archenland so quickly remains a mystery to me, but some continuity errors are allowed to be brushed over for the sake of the storyline.

The Sith frowned again, pushing his black hood off his head. The sun was relentless, and wearing heavy black robes didn't do much to relinquish the heat. His face wrinkled in deep confusion, he spontaneously decided to continue walking in the same direction.

A random blue bird was surprised at how fast he walked. '_So THAT'S how he can get everywhere so fast!_ 'It thought as it spread its wings and flew off.

---

"Master?" Pippin was still on the ground, staring up at the cloudless blue sky. His body ached.

"What is it now?" came Gandalf's annoyed reply.

"May I please have some more Mountain Dew?"

"No."

"Why, hullo there!" A new voice reached the hobbit's ears. He looked up to see a very strange looking creature looming over him.

From the waist up, it looked like a normal human—save the horns jutting out of his curly dark hair. His legs, however, were like a goat's, complete with cloven hooves. A red scarf was tied around his neck. "Your in a rather odd position, may I point out," it said again.

Pippin scrambled to his feet and looked up at the…thing. "…Hullo," the hobbit said cauitously.

"And who may you be?" Gandalf asked. Never in all his years had he seen something like this.

"My names Tumnus, good sir." He answered. "I'm a faun," Tumnus added. Judging by the looks he was receiving, the two were completely confused. "And you must be the ambassadors from Archenland, I presume?"

"I'm a Jedi padawan," Pippin said flatly.

Gandalf rubbed his forhead, wishing for the millionth time that his apprentice would think before speaking. "Jedi Master Gandalf the white, and this is my padawan, Peregrin Took," he said.

"Ah…" now it was the faun's turn to look confused, but it lasted only a second. "Very well then, the kings and queens have been expecting you. Come along now, we mustn't keep them waiting." With that, Tumnus started walking in the same direction they had been heading before.

"Kings and queens?" asked Pippin, sending a puzzled look at Gandalf.

"…He says we're expected." Judging from the wizard's tone of voice, Pippin presumed he was just as clueless. Following the faun through the woods, he could only hope that today's mystery could be solved soon.

---

A/N--What was I drinking when I wrote _that? _Oh...right...I should lay off the sugar...I honestly have no idea where the whole bluebird thing came from. Or what Sidious is thinking. (Who ever does?) Um...as author of this story...I do have the right to randomly poof people here and there. ...Yeah. -Poofs away-


	4. And 3 Makes a Crowd

-Disclaimer-

Yeah, yeah, you know the drill. I'm not making any money off this 'cause I'm not allowed and I don't own nothin' besides the plot.

---

Frodo was getting scared. No, Frodo was _beyond_ scared.

"Smeagol? Are you…feeling alright?" Hesitance fringed the hobbit's voice as he stopped in his tracks, a puzzled expression plastered onto his face.

It seemed that his mood switched only from puzzled to desperate these days. Mostly desperate. Now that they—his loyal friend Sam and him—were finally in Mordor, he should have been feeling happier…they were, after all, coming closer to their final destination, weren't they? But rather, the Ring had seemed to have doubled in weight. It was a painful burden that grew more troublesome and more overpowering with every heavy, forced step of his furred feet. The desolate landscape did little to ease the gloomy atmosphere. The skies were always dark and clouded, the marshes squishy and increasingly impossible to bear, the accompanying stench constantly wafting up their nostrils, giving the hobbit a ceaseless, dizzy headache. And now, his companion—that miserable, gangly, starved creature Gollum—was break-dancing only a few yards ahead of him.

"Nice Smeagol dances for the kind hobbit!" explained Smeagol in a high-pitched voice. He paused, dropping into an ape-like posture, staring at Frodo with wide blue eyes.

"I…I really don't think that's necessary," Frodo said, straining to not lose his sanity.

"I still don't trust him." Sam came up behind his friend, clearly displeased. "He's just tryin' to win your trust over, then he'll throttle you, mark my words."

The thin creature in front of them gasped; seemingly appalled that Sam would accuse him. "Smeagol nice to master! Smeagol doesn't throttle nice hobbits, no, no precious!"

Frodo could only sigh. Sam had never trusted Smeagol, and was constantly warning him of potential treachery. But ever since he had started calling Smeagol by his real name, he hadn't seemed so bad. Still, the 'precious' tacked onto the end of his sentence seemed to add a foreshadowing of malice to his words. Was it possible that Smeagol would relapse into darkness again?

"Stupid fat hobbit hurts Smeagol's feelings!" He was pleading now, giving puppy eyes to Frodo. Unfortunately, Smeagol was all too good at puppy eyes…either that, or Frodo gave in too easily.

"Sam…your not helping, Sam."

"Smeagol will dance for nice hobbitses, if hobbitses be nice to kind, good Smeagol."

Sam scowled. "We're wastin' time…c'mon, Mister Frodo, we need to…" He jerked his head at the Ring hanging around Frodo's neck, then glanced at the red light of Mount Doom flickering against the horizon.

"I know, Sam. I know." The Ringbearer started walking again, Sam following.

Gollum stayed where he was, and Frodo stopped, waiting. "Come on, Smeagol. Your showing us the way, remember?"

Gollum looked down on the ground, hesitating. Finally he spoke up. "Nice hobbitses—but they doesn't want to dance! Oh, Smeagol knows why! Silly hobbitses, they can't dance without any music!"

"Music?" Sam turned, raising a frustrated eyebrow at Smeagol. "Music? There's no music out here…we're in Mordor, for Eru's sake! MOR-DOR. And besides, I don't know any songs. And I'm not sure Frodo's about to break out singin' in Elvish."

"No, no, it hurts our ears, precious! No Elvish!" Smeagol wailed, covering his ears. Frodo creased his forehead in concern as he went back to speaking like he used to…and now Smeagol was making the 'gollum' noise in his throat again. "Poor, poor hobbitses, they only know Elvish songses! We mustn't ssing those, no my preciouss, no! We will sing nice songs for the hobbitses, yes, nice ssongs without the curseded tall people's interferance. We will teach them nice ssongs, yes preciousss, nice songs!"

"Sam…" Frodo ran a hand through his thick, curly hair. "I have a headache, Sam."

"See there? He has a headache! You can't sing when he has a headache!"

Gollum glared at the light-haired hobbit, starting to croak in some musical attempt, mostly to annoy Sam. "We knowsss a sssong that getssss on everybody'sss nervesess, everybody's nervesssesss, everybody'sssss nervessssessss…" he hissed.

If looks could kill, Gollum would've gone through unimaginable torture. Sam shot a look of almost pure hatred at him. "Shut. Up."

"Everybody'sss nervessesss…the ssstupid fat hobbit doesn't like our song, does he, precious? No? Stupid, sssstupid hobbit that burnss the nice rabbit and eatssses the sstrange Elvish bread! Cursed Elvish bread!"

"Well if you weren't so much of a wreck, you'd like it to! Have you ever even tried some?"

"Poissson, poissson! It burnsss our mouth! It wass made by the cursed Elvesesss! Poisson! Poor hobbit, who only eatss poisson! Poor hobbit doesn't know what it'ss like to eat real food, no, he doesn't! Poor, stupid hobbit…he's never had juicy, slimy-" Gollum paused, licking his lips-"deliciouss _fisssshhesss_, no, he hasn't, my precious."

"I don't like sushi!" Sam protested. "Nobody in their right mind likes sushi!"

"Stupid hobbit doesn't know what he's talking about! Fisshess are good, gives you sstrength to break dance!"

"I. HAVE. A. _HEADACHE!!_" Frodo yelled, angrily emphasizing each word. Sam and Gollum both stopped their bickering, turning to Frodo with shocked expressions. Sighing, the exasperated hobbit continued walking again.

"Look now, you've made him angry," Sam muttered.

"It was the cruel hobbit's fault. He argued with Smeagol. Now Smeagol won't dance for the hobbitses."

Sam turned to Smeagol. "You do not want to dance, sing, argue, or anything trivial or annoying at all for the remainder of this journey," he said with a slight wave of his hand. Now it was Sam's turn to receive blank stares from the other two. "What…I saw Gandalf do it once!"

Frodo shook his head and continued walking, only to be sidetracked by something else.

It was more like several "something else-s", to be exact. They danced on the water, glowing like dim candles among Mordor's gloom, giving off an unearthly yet strangeley beautiful light. Frodo felt dazed, as if he was in a trance. "It's so pretty…" he murmured quietly, eyes glued to one particular glow. "I want to touch it…is it…am….am I dead?"

Sam sent a confused glance at his friend. "Mister Frodo Sir…?"

"Don't look at the lights!" Smeagol warned, his voice rising to an almost concerned pitch.

Frodo turned and looked at Smeagol with glazed eyes. "Are you my conscience?"

"Master is confused now! Masster isn't fissh!"

Frodo furrowed his brows and turned back to the strange light, reaching out to it curiously. "What have we here? Man or fish? Dead or alive?" he said quietly, mesmerized.

"No, no! Masster isn't playwrite either! Don't look at the lights!" Smeagol repeated the warning.

Frodo was inching closer to the light. He shot an angry glare at Smeagol over his shoulder. "It's all your fault—your holding me back!"

"Mister Frodo…are _you_ feeling alright?" Sam asked.

Frodo only raised his eyebrows, glancing from Sam to Smeagol in shock. "He's turning you against me!" He accused.

"Mister Frodo, maybe you should take a rest…"

Frodo looked confused for an instant, then he blinked and nodded. "Yeah…yeah your right. It's the Ring, Sam…it's heavier." Frodo turned around, but was once again caught by the dancing lights. He started walking towards one, then he feel face-forward into the water.

"Mister Frodo!" Sam rushed after his friend, highly concerned. The squishy marsh water dragged at his feet, and he struggled to stay upright. All his efforts were in vain. Sam stumbled, falling into the water after Frodo. Smeagol ran after them both, only to meet the same fate…

Frodo blinked…several times. He was sitting upright, on an ocean's beach, a castle looming nearby. It didn't seem at all foreboding, however—rather, it had a pleasant, friendly feel to it. Sam and Smeagol were beside him, both looking extremely confused.

"Sam? I don't think we're in Mordor anymore…"


	5. Willy Wonka, Protector of Corellia

-Disclaimer-

Deja vu?

I lost my Narnia books, and haven't been able to read them in what seems like forever...so...expect some OOCness in that area. . I'm trying, though.

Is it even possible to keep characters in character with a story like this?

**Chapter Five**

_'What just happened?'_ A very confused Frodo looked around, dazed. The seaside and the strange castle was an abrupt change from Mordor's constant gloom and shadow, but the hobbit couldn't figure out just _how_ this had happened.

_'Right...the pretty lights.'_ Somewhere, deep inside of him, Frodo's intuition implied that he had fallen into a trance, and that he had randomly begun to act like Dory and Anakin..._'But who in Eru's name are THEY?'_

Then, after several long seconds of dazed confusion, everything started happening at once.

"The lights! Curse them! They hatess us, they do! Gollum! Trickssy hobbitsess--sstupid hobbitsess that follow curssed lightss! They take uss away, now we will never get to Mordor! Gollum!" Smeagol's voice came, rising to high pitch. Frodo turned to stare at him. "We musst leave now! Gollum! No, don't leave nice hobbitses--they didn't mean for Smeagol to be attacked by lightss!"

_'Maybe Sam was onto something,'_ Frodo thought. _'He IS insane...'_ He didn't say anything as he watched Smeagol continue the debate with himself.

"Yes, yes they did! They tricked us! They lied to us! No, not nice master...no! I told you to go away! We can't live without me! Gollum! ...What? You makes no sensse! We didn't pass nassty Wesstron tessts, gollum! Sstop creepy throat noise, it hurtss my earss! _Our_ earss, preciouss, ourss! Right..._our_ earsses...this is all because they wouldn't let us breakdance! Bagginss!! We hatess them, remember? They sstole it--they stole the Preciouss! No, no! Different Baggins...Master is kind to us! He has it! He has the Preciouss!! Gollum! They pushed uss of the bandwagon! And the boat! ...What? You're not making much sense, not any sense at all...We were never good at Phase 10. Nassty card game. Long story."

Frodo watched, a strange expression on his face. "...Smeagol?" He asked nervously, confused beyond all hope.

The gangly creature whipped it's face around, staring at Frodo with his large, pale eyes. "It's up! The hobbit is up! Should we take the Precious, precious? No--nassty lights kills us! Run!" With that, Gollum ran off in a completely random direction, going as swiftly as he could on all fours.

"Bye-bye..."

Frodo turned around to look at Sam, who was waving blankly at Gollum as he ran out of view.

"Sam? Are you feeling alright?"

"No, don't worry, I was never good at Phase Ten, either. I liked to stick to Uno." Sam's reply sounded happily dazed, as if he were in a dream. Then Frodo noticed the rather large stone next to his friend's head..._'Oh no...'_

"...Sam...?"

"Oh, hello Dorothy. The sun would say hello, but she went to visit the rainbow..."

_'My name's Frodo, but whatever works...you'll be ok, Sam. I hope...'_

"You know, I think he was right."

"Who was right, Sam?" _I'll take things slow...I don't want to harm him any more...'_

"Sam? Who's Sam?" Samwise Gamgee clumsily got up to his feet, blinking his eyes a few times. "I am Willy Wonka, protector of Corellia!"

_'By Elbereth...this is not good...'_ "Ok then..._Willy Wonka,_...who was right?" _Patience, patience...he'll remember himself...I hope.'_

"Protector of Corellia," the light-haired hobbit mumbled, almost to himself. "Gollumeogul." He answered, pointing in the direction of where Gollum had ran off.

_'Gollumeogul? Gollum and Smeogul...that's actually kind of clever.'_ "What was Gollumeogul right about, Sa-Willy?"

"Willy Wonka, protector of Corellia!" Sam pouted, wishing that Frodo would get it right. _'I think? Or was it Dagobah? Oh, right, Gollumeogul.'_ "The singing. We should sing. Don't you like to sing, Dorothy?"

_'Ok, so he still has some memories...I guess that's a good thing...'_ Frodo thought, though he actually didn't want to relive yesterday's--or was it this morning?--actions. "What do you want to sing, Willy Wonka...protector of Corellia...?" He asked hesitantly.

"Dagabah. I protect Dagobah."

"Willy Wonka, protector of Dagobah?"

"Yes...that's right...Dagobah." Sam paused for a moment before bursting out in song. "Green is pretty, green is good! The ale in the Green Dragon is very good! But nothing could ever, no nothing could--beat Mountain Dew, the green bottle good!"

_'Well, that's one I haven't heard before...'_ While not alcoholic, Mountain Dew was the newest, most popular drink in the Shire, though the high sugar content tended to make even the most sensible hobbits go insane. _'But not Sam, he hit his head on a rock...'_

---

"Look! More short people!"

"Vertically challenged, Lucy...where have you're manners gone?" Susan sighed, wishing her younger sister would show some proper etiquette. At 17, she was already a queen of Narnia, as were her other three siblings. Ever since they had met Aslan--when Susan was 12--life had changed...she could barely remember what life was like before then, actually. What she did know, however, was that being queen required proper manners--even on confusing days like today when she only wanted a walk on the beach with her sister.

Lucy, however, was all-too-quickly distracted by the two people few yards off. At 13, she was the youngest of the four royal siblings, at that awkward stage of life where one tends to spontaneously forget etiquette for the moment.

"Their probably just dwarves, they always come down to the beach..." Susan continued.

"No, they can't possibly be dwarves...they look an awful lot like Pippin, don't you think?" This morning they were supposed to welcome two ambassadors from Archenland. However, Peter, their older brother and high king of Narnia, had forgotten completely about it. Needless to say, he was quite confused when Mr. Tumnus brought in the 'ambassadors'--a tired looking old man and a short, curly haired dwarf. However, Pippin strongly insisted that he wasn't a dwarf at all--he was a _hobbit._

"Perhaps..." Susan said, hesitance in her voice. She had never heard of _hobbits,_ but she decided that anything was possible in Narnia, anyways.

---

"It's the ciiiircle of liiife...doo dee doo...and it moves us aaaaalll..."

Frodo shook his head, exasperated. Sam's condition had gotten even worse, and now he wouldn't stop singing wierd songs that had never been heard of in the Shire.

_'How long is this going to last?'_ He thought. Then he started hearing voices, down the beach.

Two young human girls, dressed in ellegant but simple dresses, were talking and walking towards them. "Hey!" Frodo scrambled to his feet, desperately trying to get their attention! "Hey, you! Where are we?"

"Why," the younger, blonde-haired girl answered, "you're in Narnia..."

---

A/N--Bwuahaha, soon they shall all meet up again...but updates will be slower from now on. Because...well, that's all I've written at the moment.

Fear the power of the cliffhanger. -Evil laughter-


	6. May He Live Forever

-Disclaimer- 

I don't own the locations, canon characters, customs, or sayings. I do, however, own the insanity of it all. And I own Kesash, the crazy Tarkaan. :p Don't sue me, even though I doubt anyone will. Enjoy. No, sorry, I don't serve lemonade.

---

"You! Who might you be?"

The dark-skinned speaker had a crimson-dyed beard and was wearing elegant robes. Darth Sidious could only stare, blatantly baffled. _'Why am I on Tatooine?'_

Or at least, the landscape definately _looked_ like Tatooine. But this bustling city--at least, what he could see from the gates where he stood--didn't look anything at all like cities like Mos Eisley. The architecture, the people, the culture--everything was different.

Sidious looked back to study the man who had spoken to him. He was tall, and, judging by the way he was dressed and the way he carried himself, was a noble of some sorts. Beside him stood some beast of burden, gray-white in color, with a long braided mane and a silky tail. The beast had a saddle on its back, and the man was holding it with some sort of bridle.

"Just who do you think you are?" The man asked again. Darth Sidious could sense his irritance.

"I have no idea where I am," he replied bluntly. _'It's really hot out here...I think the suns might be getting to my head.'_ The Sith Lord looked up at the sky. _'Alright...there's only one sun. But it's still dreadfully hot...'_

The native man narrowed his eyes, frowning. Was this stranger lacking in brains? "You are at the gates of Tashbaan, capital of Calormen, city of Tash, ruled by the Tisroc (may he live forever) Minom, son of Inorud, direct descendant of Tash. I am Kesash Tarkaan, son of Efut Tarkaan, son of Eadat Tarkaan, brother of the Tisroc Hanak, son of Bufal, direct descendant of Tash. And I'll repeat my question again...who are you?"

"You do not need to know who I am," Darth Sidious answered with a small wave of his hand. _'I've somehow landed on another one of those Outer Rim planets with no technology whatsoever...'_

Kesash Tarkaan blinked. "I do not need to know who you are." _'Of course...what was I thinking? Who he is is his business.'_ "You are here to see the Tisroc (may he live forever), am I correct?" The Calormene noble continued. Why else would this black-clad stranger be here, acting like an arrogant idiot?

"Yes, in fact I am here to see this...Tisroc," Sidious said after a pause. _'If I'm going to get any answers, I might as well talk to the person in charge.'_

"May he live forever," The Tarkaan added, insulted by the stranger's lack of manners.

The Sith frowned in annoyance, already strongly disliking this place. "Just take me to him," he ordered.

"Right away, sir." Kesash Tarkaan mounted his horse and started riding into the city of Tashbaan, leaving the stranger to walk behind. _'He must be one of those northern barbarians. He can walk.'_

As the local man started riding on his beast, Sidious followed, glaring at his back. _'The least you could do is let me ride one of those...things.'_ Shaking his head and sighing, he did his best to follow in the crowded streets. Everyone was staring at him, and keeping their distance.

"Where are you from?" Asked Kesash again, carefully navigating the way to the castle in the center of the city.

"Somewhere...far, far away," Sidious answered. _'Or at least, I'm presuming it's far, far away...'_

"Ah..." The Tarkaan glanced back at him. "You aren't from Narnia?"

"No...I'm not from Narnia." _'I've never heard of Narnia...'_

The Calormene furrowed his eyebrows. "Alright then..." After a short silence, he began to get bored. "What's your favorite color?" He asked, acting like a young child. "I like red...red is pretty."

"I...I'm afraid I don't really have a favorite color."

_'Right. You're boring,'_ The Tarkaan thought.

"I prefer not to act like a child."

Startled, Kesash glanced back at the stranger sharply. "You...you read my mind!"

_'Well, if you'd keep your thoughts to yourself, fool...'_

"You must be a sorceror!" Kesash Tarkaan continued. "I bet you worship that lion demon! Liar! You ARE one of those cursed barbarians from up north! You came here to spy on us! You're...you're all planning to conquer Calormen and take over...you...you're going to steal Jack!"

"What are you rambling on about?"

"You aren't going to touch one hand on my Jack, you just wait and see. I'm not so easily fooled."

"Who's Jack?"

"I named the monkey Jack," Kesash Tarkaan pouted, continuing to ride on. The rest of the trip through the city was silent, as it got more crowded towards the castle. "Well...here we are." The Calormene noble got down from his horse, turning to the stranger. "You would like me to escort you to the tisroc (may he live forever), I presume?"

Sidious nodded, still a little unsure about the immature rambling that the native had freaked out over.

"Alright then...follow me!" Kesash entered the castle and walked rather quickly through some richly-decorated corridors before stopping in front of a large door. "Shh..." The Tarkaan lowered his voice. "The tisroc, may he live forever, is inside. He's been sleeping alot lately. He's been under much stress. I wouldn't anger him, if I were you." The door squeaked as he opened it. Kesash winced. "That was loud...that was too loud...you have to be very quiet. Very quiet, or he won't be happy."

"Okay..." Darth Sidious whispered. "Just open the door, before I completely lose my patience."

Kesash nodded, opening the door a little further and stepping inside, motioning for Sidious to follow. "There he is," He whispered, pointing to a man slumped in a throne. "Ok...bye." With that, Kesash tip-toed out of the door, closing it behind him.

The Sith Lord shifted his weight awkwardly. Long seconds passed, and still the tisroc didn't reply. _'Odd...I'm not sensing anything...no life...oh' _Sidious reached out his hand, zapping the man with a few electrical bolts of force lightning. No reaction. _'Just as I suspected...he's dead. First the wardrobe, now this!' _Being stuck on some wierd planet with a dead ruler was the last thing he needed.

Someone tapped on the door. Opening it, Sidious was reunited with Kesash. "Is it all alright?" The strange man whispered in a paranoid fashion.

Sidious glared at him. "I believe the tisroc-"

"-may he live forever-" Kesash interrupted.

"...is dead."

It took a while for that information to sink in. The tarkaan gaped. "What?"

"He's DEAD," repeated a very irritated Sidious.

Kesash Tarkaan, proud if not entirely sane son of Efut, suddenly felt an urge to run. Usually, he would at least try to remain compused, but this was an extremely strange urge, and with the pale-skinned stranger giving him a very evil glare, he decided that it would be a good idea to act on said urge.

-A/N-

Yeah, that was a bad chapter...I didn't really have the feel for it. Ah, it's been too long since I've read HHB...(About a year. o.o)

Kesash was so random. I mean, he wasn't in the origanal storyline I had. Lemme know what you guys think of him, I may include more crazy-Tarkaan-ness in further chapters!

Aravis, Bree, and Shasta...I don't know what happened to them. Well, this IS an alternate universe...


End file.
